Orphanage Blues
by Schadenfraude
Summary: Lucius opens up an orphanage. Serra can't resist visiting because as she sees it, no orphanage is complete without a kind, gentle and pious woman. Don't let her catch you looking so confused; she means herself.
1. Alcohol, Miles, and Beautiful Smiles

For all the SerraLucius fans out there, wherever you're hiding.

... And maybe just as a bit of a gift for Silvara... I said I'd do this fic SINCE _**SO LONG**_ AGO.

One of these days I might try writing out an epic adventure filled with drama and intrigue, but today is not that day. Enjoy this fluffy story. (It was going to be a oneshot but it got too dang long and I worried I'd never finish it so now it's in parts).

J'espère que tout le monde aime cette petite histoire :)

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_The fighting was over. They had all emerged from the Dragon's Gate battered but alive. The morphs, the dragon, it all felt like nothing more than a surreal dream._

_Fargus welcomed them back with hearty handshakes and playful winks sent Lyn's direction. To everyone's surprise, she laughed and elbowed Fargus in the side with a wink of her own. Never one to turn down a lady's good cheer, the corsair placed an arm around her shoulders and led her onboard to the cheering chorus of his entire crew. Before long, everyone made their way onto the ship for a well-deserved rest to be followed by a night of feasting and drinking._

_That night, Lucius sat on deck against the cabin wall with a blanket wrapped tightly around his body to protect against the cool sea air. "Just a lil' breeze," said sailors with a sigh of disapproval at the landlubbers and their thick wool cloaks. _

_Near the mast, a drunken red-faced Wallace was telling ghost stories to anyone who was willing to sit down with their meal and listen to an old man slur about leadhess women and bisemdawdied voices. Wil held a lantern up to the general's side for the sake of ambience but he had to repeatedly dodge as Wallace described every detail in his story with a flourish of his arms. Everyone cheered for the hapless archer from a safe distance. Laughs erupted when Wallace nearly tripped and stumbled into Wil. Even the monk had to chuckle despite his misgivings about swinging a lit lantern aboard a wooden ship full of merry drunks._

_"Hallo, Looshush!"_

_Lucius looked up to see Serra smiling down at him with a crooked smile and a slightly confused and unfocused look in her eyes as though she wasn't quite sure of what she was seeing. Before Lucius could respond, Serra stumbled his way with unsteady steps that nearly sent her into the ship's railing. _

_"Sister Serra!" said Lucius in alarm. He scrambled to his feet and reached out to help, but Serra miraculously righted herself with a red-faced giggle._

_"S'I'm alrigh'."_

_Lucius eyed her undone hair that had somehow gotten into a tangled mess of sweaty pink strands and the scarf that had gone missing from her neck and now exposed more skin than most clergies would find comfortable. She gave a hiccup and Lucius decided to take her hand and gently guide her to the wooden floor of the boat's deck. _

_"Sister Serra... Would you like to sit with me?" He sat down first and gestured to an empty spot next to him where a blanket had already been laid out. _

_With another hiccup, Serra sat herself right in his lap ignoring Lucius's shouts. "Don't mind if ah do!" she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her finger along his earlobe. As if that wasn't enough, she leaned in towards his lips._

_"Ah... Sister Serra?" said Lucius as he leaned away from her probing mouth. "Did you drink any alcohol, perchance?"_

_Giving up on trying to kiss the poor monk, Serra made herself content with resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Math-you gave me somethin' t'drink," she mumbled into his shirt. "Bitter. Didn' like it."_

_Matthew. Of course. _

_Lucius sighed. "Sister Serra... I'm feeling rather crowded."_

_"Ah'm not."_

_Somehow, Serra managed to tuck her legs in so she was settled within Lucius's crossed legs. The poor monk could only sigh again as Serra used his collarbone as a pillow. Over her shoulder, he watched Wallace recount tales of the unknown in the direction opposite his laughing audience. Somewhere near the railings of the ship, there was a person singing horribly off-key. Lucius quickly averted his eyes from the silhouette of two people locked in a passionate embrace in a dark corner of the ship._

_"Looshush?" Serra loosened her grip on Lucius's neck for a moment. She was sober long enough to find his eyes with hers._

_"What is it, Sister Serra?"_

_"Whatchu gonna do now?"_

_"I'm not sure I understand the question."_

_"Fighting'sh over. Whatchu gonna do?"_

_Lucius smiled with his eyes downcast. "I had hoped to follow Lord Raven, but..."_

_The monk sighed. Raymond had been adamant against it. He spoke strongly about not wanting to involve anyone else in his quest for revenge, especially someone who "deserved more than revenge could offer". He went as far as to avoid all contact with Lucius after the fight. Even now, Raymon's whereabouts on the ship were a mystery to the monk._

_Serra slid out of Lucius's lap and sat beside him with knees tucked up to her chin. She pouted and asked, "Sho? Whatchu gonna do?"_

_Lucius reached over to the blanket he had meant for Raven and picked it up. With a smile, he draped it over Serra's back and let his hands rest on her shoulders. "Well," he said as he fixed the blanket so it covered Serra's arms, "I've always wanted to start an orphanage. Give children their childhood back, help them grow up right. It's been a dream of mine."_

_Suddenly, Serra's hands shot up and grabbed Lucius by the wrists. The monk nearly leapt back in surprise. "S-Sister Serra?" he said. Slowly, Serra raised her wet, red eyes to look up into his._

_"Th-that'sh sho... sho..."_

_Instead of finishing her sentence, Serra launched herself at the monk and sobbed hysterically into his chest. Finding a crying woman in his arms, Lucius wrapped his arms around her shuddering shoulders and held her long into the night until she had fallen asleep amidst the drunken singing and flickering torchlight.  
_

* * *

The air smelt of the musk that was oft associated with moist earth. Together with the sound of children laughing and splashing their way through muddy puddles, Lucius thought it was the perfect spring day. It was cool outside, not enough to give anyone a chill but just cool enough so that the sun's light was a warm blessing. The blue sky hadn't been so clear just an hour ago, but you wouldn't be able to tell from the children's mood. They sighed and sulked when the rain throttled the roof-but look at them now!

Lucius stared out the window as he continued to peel potatoes for their dinner that night. Another round of shrieks and yells erupted outside. It never failed to surprise him how much fun they could find in dirt-filled water and earthworms. No doubt there would be more grass stains and muddy streaks to clean. He decided he would run a hot bath for all of them that night as he did every night after a rainy day.

Being the father of an orphanage was hard. Keeping up with the children was taxing enough, but Lucius also had to provide food and clothing. When it was just a handful of children, it wasn't nearly so much trouble. But now his orphanage was a lively little place full of round, freckled faces. Lucius had never realized how many children were out there, homeless and starving. Whenever a child turned up at his door emaciated and dressed in rags, Lucius never found the willpower to say no even though room was scarce.

Suddenly, Lucius heard a loud shriek outside his window. Dropping a forgotten potato to the floor, Lucius didn't bother looking outside. He immediately grabbed his mend staff in hand to treat whatever injury had occurred. Old gossips told the story of a child chasing his ball into the path of a speeding horse carriage. Another fell out of a tree and broke his neck. Yet another simply disappeared while playing by the lake.

Lucius muttered a small prayer. He flung open the door, hands gripping the staff as hard as his slender hands could, and he froze at the sight before him. For all the strength he put in his grip, Lucius nearly dropped his staff.

Then he laughed.

"I'd forgotten you said you were visiting today in your letter," said Lucius as he leaned his mend staff against the wall. "How are you, Sister Serra?"

A young woman with pink pigtails laid on the ground with her clerical dress splattered brown. Curious children surrounded the fuming woman. They ran away laughing when the woman sat up and sent them a glare, eyes narrowed from either anger or the mud dripping down her face.

"_Horrible_!" shrieked Serra as the children around her scattered in fits of laughter. "Eight hours-eight!-to reach this place! That horse carriage just bounced up and down, up and down, and me on that _horrid wooden seat_! Do you know how bruised I am? The sores, the blisters, the unseemly tan! I'm nowhere as beautiful as I normally am! _And this mud!_ I tripped over one of those brats and I feel simply _horrible_! Do you know how many hours of soaking in olive oil it will take to make my skin all smooth and shiny again? Days! Weeks! _Months_!"

Lucius walked over to Serra, offered her his arm, and helped her up. The muddied cleric was in no mood to be quiet and she continued to talk about her ruined nails and her normally impeccable hair.

Serra went on and on. "I was going to give the children a good first impression!" she said with her hand poised over her chest. " 'Look at me!' I was going to say, 'this is what a beautiful woman looks like!' Just to inspire them, y'know? So the boys would grow up to be men who'd know what kind of woman to look for and the girls would know what kind of woman to become! But it's ruined, all ruined! I don't have my usual radiance, do I? I mean, you can still obviously tell I'm beautiful - you can't hide beauty when you've got as much of it as I do - but I wanted to show them my best! Now I'm all covered in mud!"

Lucius smiled and nodded politely at everything she had to say. He offered her a pat on the hand as consolation for her horrible day and led her into the orphanage.

Serra was never a very quiet cleric. She was not humble, she was not modest. She boasted and called herself the most desired woman on the continent. From the way Serra acted around men, her chastity was suspect. However, with Serra around, the infirmary was never boring and patients had a fire in their eyes from the determination they felt to get well as soon as possible so they wouldn't have to listen to another round of beauty tips from "the pink-haired banshee", as was her nickname in the war.

As soon as she entered the orphanage, she found a dozen more things to complain about. The windows were dirty, the floor was uneven. The ceiling had holes, the walls had mould. As far as she could tell, the orphanage was just one big room with a small kitchen in the corner, a small bookshelf in another, and numerous cots and mats strewn against the walls.

Serra looked at the ragged welcome mat in front of her. To her well-learned eye, it looked like it was made from the pelt of many drowned rats. She turned to face Lucius. "You live _here_?"

"Yes, Sister Serra, all the children and I."

"Here? This tiny place?"

"It's cozy."

Serra stepped around the welcome mat, grabbed a broom, and started coughing when it stirred up dust clouds and cobwebs. "When was the last time you swept the floors?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember," said Lucius in between coughs. "The children occupy most of my time, I never have the time to tidy-"

Serra took that as a cue to put her hands on her hips and take charge. With so much flourish that she nearly took his eye out, Serra stuck her finger in Lucius's face and said, "Give me a set of spare clothing, a pail, a rag, a mop, a pair of gloves, three bottles of vodka and as many lemons as you have."

Lucius was taken back. "Vodka? I'm sorry, Sister Serra, but that's quite impossible-"

"Go buy some from the winery, then."

"Sister Serra! There are children here!"

Serra rolled her eyes. "Oh Lucius! I just need it for cleaning! I wouldn't let the kids drink it; it tastes horrible."

Now the monk laughed. "Cleaning! Of course, of course, I apologize."

And since Serra was a woman of infinite mercy, Lucius had only to pour her some tea and run her a hot bath to once again be in her good graces.

* * *

Later that day, Serra finished her bath and went back inside the orphanage to see Lucius pouring the tea he had promised her. He smiled at her, but seeing how she was busy scrutinizing the dust on the table, Serra didn't notice.

"Will the children be coming in?" she asked after dusting off a chair and taking a seat.

"No, I thought I'd let them play a little longer. It's been raining for days, you see, so they haven't been able to go out for a while." Lucius put the kettle down and took a seat across from Serra.

Serra, whose eyebrows were steadily climbing up her forehead, said, "You let them out to play right after it rains?"

"Well, yes. Their little faces brightened up so quickly when it stopped raining."

"But all that mud and dirt!" said Serra incredulously. "Even the little girls were rolling around like pigs! Caked! Just positively caked in mud! They'll never grow up to be wonderful women like me if they keep this up!" She gave a reproachful shake of her head before taking a sip of tea with her pinky pointed out so stiffly that it looked painful. Lucius could only laugh.

"No one else could ever grow up to be like you," he reminded her with a smile. It was the same smile Lucius used to give everyone in the war, the one that convinced everyone the man had to be a saint if he could fight a war and still be able to look forward to tomorrow and persuade others to do the same. One flash of his bright blue eyes was all it took to make Serra look away.

"I-I suppose," she said, all brashness suddenly drained out of her voice.

Strange how she hadn't remembered such a beautiful smile. Serra had to admit that it rivaled even her own.

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**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

FUN FACT: Serra used to be an orphan and lived a lonely life in a convent. It's in her supports... somewhere... Also, it's possible that Lucius later dies twenty years after the game ends, but I won't concern myself with that at the moment.

Anyway, thank you for reading and please review as you see fit!


	2. Screams, Sore Hands, and Brilliant Plans

Drumroll please! Here is chapter two :)

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The next morning, Serra was sleeping quite comfortably when she heard the sound of pots and pans clanging. She pulled the covers over her ears but it did nothing to stop the noise. The children started to scream and laugh until all Serra heard was the roar of pots and pans, children and devils. Serra tossed the covers aside and shouted, "Quiet!" Unfortunately, she only strained her voice.

Lucius looked up from the eggs he was cooking on the stove and shouted over the children, "Good morning, Sister Serra! Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Serra looked out the window. She gaped when she saw that the sun wasn't even past the horizon yet with only a sliver of light peeking out from behind the hills. Serra said, "It's not morning yet!"

A child right next to her bed started whacking his pot and pan, making Serra wince. "Early to bed, early to rise!" said the child as he ducked out of Serra's reach, giggling all the while.

"Early to bed, early to rise!" chorused the other children as they wielded an assortment of rusted kitchen utensils. They climbed over the cots and crawled across the mats, laughing and tumbling and making noise as they did so.

"Lucius!" shrieked Serra. A flying whisk hit her in the head. Serra turned, but the culprit had already run away. She was on the verge of ripping out her hair. "What are these monsters doing!"

"Well, it takes time to make breakfast for all these children so I let them play while -"

Someone kicked over a tower of pots and pans as children chased each other around the crashing structure, banging spoons and forks as they ran. Serra covered her ears with her hands and said, "_Call them off call them off call them off_!"

Lucius clapped his hands and called out, "Children! It's time for breakfast!"

Quickly, the children stacked away all the pots and pans and whatever else they had found into the cupboards. They all made a nice, orderly line in front of the table where Lucius was distributing plates piled with scrambled eggs. The children didn't shove or run. They stood in line and waited for their turn, saying please and thank you when they received their plate.

Serra felt her jaw fall through the floor. "Wh-what?"

Lucius smiled at her. "Teaching children good manners is very important."

Serra turned as she watched a child take her food and sit atop a cot along with her friends. Just moments before, they had been jumping and screaming on top of that cot. Lucius laughed at Serra's incredulity. "They're such darling children, aren't they?" he said.

Still trying to regain her bearings, Serra numbly nodded.

After breakfast, the children started running around again. Thankfully, Serra didn't see them pull out any pots or pans. That seemed limited to their wake-up ritual.

* * *

"- staying?"

Serra just realized that her tea had gone cold. For several minutes, she had been looking out the window and watching the children play. Serra mentally admonished herself and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Um, I didn't catch that."

Lucius sat across from her with his own cup of tea raised to his lips. "It's nice, isn't it? Watching them play, it's like remembering your own childhood."

"I suppose."

"I didn't play very much as a child, but these children, they've gone through so much. They're owed at least a little joy in their lives."

Serra listened to Lucius as she watched the children laughing as they ran, running as they laughed. The oldest, a young man who was always the first to offer his help, had his home raided by a thief who slit his family's throats in the dead of night while he stayed at a friend's home after fighting with his parents. A handful of children, one of them carrying an infant who had since grown into a precocious little girl, had barely escaped from a skirmish at the border that had them running from burning homes. Many children had been simply abandoned, brought to Lucius by a bout of luck.

They chased each other in circles for no reason than to run. They tumbled and fell over one another, but then they would pick themselves up only to shriek and run and run some more. Serra remembered that one rule at the convent that she had hated more than all the others. Stand still and don't make a noise.

"- how long?"

Serra sat up with a jolt. "Oh! I-I'm so-I'm not myself."

"Evidently," said Lucius as he patted her on the hand. "Are you homesick?"

"No, I'd never be homesick."

"Are you sure? How long are you planning to stay?"

"For as long as you'll have me."

Lucius chuckled. "I'm afraid you'll be staying forever, then."

Serra took this as a cue to smooth the wrinkles on her dress and give Lucius her best aloof frown. "Oh yes, but you must understand that a woman as influential and talented as myself has many obligations."

"In Ostia, I presume?"

"Yes, they've been offering me _so many _high-ranking positions since the war ended. It's such a bother to choose..."

Lucius got up and cleared away the leftover plates on the table. He smiled and said, "You can stay for as long as it takes you to make your choice."

Serra watched as he put the dishes in the sink and went outside to call the children inside. When the door closed, Serra sighed and crossed her arms. She creased her forehead, the perfect little forehead that she wanted to keep wrinkle-free so much, and became lost in thought. She never thought much of her lies about her own position. It seemed natural that others should think of her as the wonderful person she was. But this time, Serra wondered why she had lied to Lucius.

Serra did not brood for long. Lucius came back, a child holding his hand and many more waiting behind him.

"The children had a wonderful idea," said Lucius. "We have a chicken coop in the back. Would you like to see it?"

* * *

Serra became convinced that behind that long, blond hair and those damnably beautiful eyes was a manipulative man who would charm bluebirds from their nest and then cook them over a fire.

Later that day, Lucius brought Serra behind the orphanage where there was indeed a quaint little chicken coop. It was a little clearing surrounded by a wooden fence. The fence looked as if it had been painted white though the colour seemed to have yellowed over the years.

First, Lucius disarmed her by smiling at her. Then he asked her if she'd like to look inside as if he had prepared this wonderful off-white coop just for her, complete with a wonderful secret waiting inside. Certainly she'd like to take a look!

Inside the chicken coop were nesting boxes where hens sat in piles of straw. Another fence separated the hens from the roosters. Along one wall was a shed where they could find shade and shelter. Squawks and fowl cries filled the air. As she got closer, one particularly violent squawk stopped Serra in her tracks. But Lucius held out his hand to her (that smile!) and she felt compelled to take it.

He advised her to watch her steps and walked her over to the nesting hens. Lucius rolled up his sleeves, and reached underneath the hen as he cooed gently to it. He pulled out an egg and placed it into Serra's hands. "Look," said Lucius, "isn't it beautiful?"

Serra clasped it in her hands and realized that this was the first time in her life that she had ever held an egg in her hands, barring the times she ate them. The shell was smooth and white; it was warm in her hands like a stone that had basked in the sun. Serra turned it over in her hands and said. "I... I guess so." Lucius smiled so sincerely that it looked like he had waited all day to hear those words.

But now she realized that it was all part of his plan.

Serra didn't remember it very clearly, but somehow she ended up volunteering to chase after chickens and collect eggs. Such acts were beneath her yet Serra still volunteered for it. She knew it must have been a spell of some sort, an enchantment of power she could not fathom. It was so powerful indeed that Serra almost doubted that Lucius was capable of it.

Unfortunately, man hens were reluctant to give up their eggs. Serra ended getting scratched and pecked until her arms were blotchy red, until there was straw sticking up at odd angles from her hair, until the hem of her dress was tattered and torn - all for the sake of those beautiful eggs.

When the time for supper came, Lucius gathered up all the children and nudged them in the direction of Serra. "Children, Sister Serra collected the eggs for our dinner tonight. What do you say?"

"Thank you!" chorused the children.

Serra rubbed her poor arms and stared off to the side. "You're welcome," she grumbled.

She forgot about her grudge the next morning when Lucius woke her up with a bowl of fresh, steaming soup in his hands and a smile on his face.

Oh, that smile.

* * *

One morning, Serra fell ill. Her skin was clammy, her hair was tangled, and she sneezed holes through her handkerchiefs. Serra, being as unhappy as she was, glared at all the playing children who dared to run and jump through the crowded little orphanage. She even started to resent Lucius for his ever-present smile.

"I'll bring you breakfast in bed," said Lucius.

"Of course you will," grumbled Serra.

"Is there anything else you'd like?"

Serra took out her hand and counted her misfortunes on the tips of her swollen fingers. "Well, I think it would be a good idea to have a few more windows in the orphanage. Maybe if the floor weren't quite so dirty I wouldn't be so sick. Oh, and these blankets are so terribly thin and ragged, I could take a washcloth to bed and be warmer than this! Which reminds me, this pillow is just so lumpy and hard, it's a wonder my delicate head isn't bruised black and blue. And please, be a dear and get me a feather mattress. Goose down, silk covers, and the like. And that's all. Maybe you should go right now. I'm quite sure you won't have enough time to get everything if you just stand there, silly Lucius."

Lucius did nothing but blink. Then he brought his hand up to his mouth and thought for a moment. "I'm... I'm afraid we don't have anything like that. Do you really need those things?"

"Yes I do."

"Are you quite sure?"

Serra sighed. "Yes, I'm quite sure!"

"All right then, I'll be sure you get everything you need," said Lucius. After that, he prepared breakfast, fed the children, and brought Serra food to eat in the comfort of her bed as promised. However, she wasn't in the mood to be grateful. In Serra's opinion, she had put up with the children, the chores, and the poor sanitary conditions. She was a saint to have gone on living the way she had, and now that she was sick, Serra seemed to believe that she had every right to whatever luxury she wanted, no matter how outrageous.

Later that day, reliable, trustworthy Lucius stayed true to his word and left to get Serra's things. He didn't even need to ask a neighbour to take care of the children; he was done in a flash. Lucius left the orphanage, and before Serra even had the time to start complaining of boredom, he was back.

Serra couldn't help but be a little suspicious. She crossed her arms and pouted in a way that made Lucius wonder if she wasn't one of the children he tucked into bed every night. "Did you really get everything? You didn't just step outside and then give up, did you?"

"Oh no, I just had to find someone to deliver my letter. That's all."

"A letter?"

"Yes," said Lucius with a smile. "I've arranged for a carriage. It will be here in a week, enough time for you to get better. You'll be heading back home to Ostia!"

Lucius smiled happily, looking for all the world like the second coming of St. Elimine was happening. Serra, however, was unpleasantly surprised.

"You're... you're sending me away?" she said.

"Yes, won't it be nice to be back home? I've asked them to make it comfortable; you'll have some nice pillows this time and some shade over your head. Of course you'll still be stuck in a carriage for hours, but that won't be as bad as before!"

Serra repeated, "_You're sending me away_?"

Lucius's smile faltered. "Oh... have I done wrong? I know you've been having a hard time here and we could never afford to rebuild the orphanage or get any feather mattresses, so I thought you'd prefer to be home."

Without any warning, Serra burst into tears and started bawling into her pillow. "Y-you don't want me here! You want me to _leave_! You _hate_ me!"

"Oh no, no, it's certainly nothing of the sort-"

"_You hate me_!" shrieked Serra.

Somehow, she convinced herself that this was true. Lucius had only put up with her because he felt sorry for a little thing like her. He was only nice to her because she was such a backwards girl when it came to chores and country life. Silly, stupid Serra, why hadn't she seen it before?

"Sister Serra-"

"You hate me, you hate me! You must think I'm stupid and ugly and-_oh_, you hate me!"

Lucius tried to comfort her, but she would have none of it. Serra pushed him away and burrowed underneath the blankets where she sobbed until she soaked through the sheet. In the end, Lucius gave up. "I'll leave you alone, then. Come along children, Sister Serra has had a hard day. Let's have supper. I'll set some food aside for you, Sister Serra."

With that, Lucius led the curious children away so that Serra could have some time to herself.

* * *

It turned out that staying in bed all day had its advantages. For one, Serra was able to sit out on the chores, and it was a good thing too. She also had all the time in the world to figure out what she was going to do. There she laid, covers tucked up to her nose and gears turning furiously in her head.

Had anyone ever lived to tell the tale of how they turned Serra away? Certainly not! That was a first that Serra was determined to prevent.

In order to come up with a plan, Serra thought to first list all the facts she knew and then think of a plan covering all her points, an idea so novel and brilliant that she thought herself very clever.

First of all, Lucius was a very handsome, if not beautiful man. This wasn't relevant to her plan so much as it was relevant to the reason for her plan - oh, what was she thinking? She had her vows to keep!

Next item: Serra liked the children very much. She knew all of their names because at some point, she had screamed at each of them. They could be such spirited little things, but she only loved them all the more whenever she had to extract them from the orphanage's roof - no, no, that's not going to help her think of a plan either.

If only Erk were there to help her! Erk had such a knack for smart little plans and he was a very learned man. Serra remembered the time when she was infatuated with him though it would've been only better if he were blond and blue-eyed - oh, how her thoughts wandered!

But if Serra was known for only one thing, it would be her stubbornness.

Quietly, with a strength of mind that eluded her most of the time, Serra laid there, determined to think however hard it took until she thought up a simple and effective plan to stop Lucius from sending her away. She slept that night with a determination to wake up the next morning well-rested and ready to prove to Lucius that he needed her.

To help with the orphanage, she meant.

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**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Next chapter is the thrilling conclusion! Thank you for reading and please review as you see fit. I love feedback very much :)


	3. Opportunities to Seize 'n Rooftop Crises

Also known as, _In which Lucius proves he too is only human_.

Remember last chapter when I said chapter 3 was the thrilling conclusion? I lied. Chapter 4 may take a while since that has not been started and I hadn't even planned for there to be a chapter 4. Argh, this story is taking over me. I'll hopefully tie up everything nicely with chapter 4.

**OOOOOOOOOO**

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"Early to bed, early to rise! Early to bed, early to rise!"

Lucius rolled over in his bed and wiped the crust from his eyes as he heard the pots and pans banging away in the early hours of the morning. Was it time to wake up already? But as soon as he was sober enough, he realized that there was something off. For one thing, it was still night time as was evident by the dark sky outside the window. For another, all of the children were still in their beds though they were also rolling in their beds and groaning as he had.

"Early to bed, early to rise! Wake up, children, you mustn't sleep the day away!"

Sister Serra paced in the middle of the room; she held a ladle in one hand and a pot in the other. Lucius winced every time she struck the bottom of the pot. From the look of the fresh dents, it appeared that their breakfast would henceforth sit crooked on the stove.

"Sister Serra!" shouted Lucius as he tried to speak over the banging. "Isn't it-isn't it a bit early? The children must have their sleep!"

Serra, who for whatever reason wore a sieve upon her head, did not relent in her pot-banging. She said, "Nonsense! Early bird catches the worm! What sort of woman would I be to turn a blind eye to tardy children who stayed in bed all day?"

"But Sister Serra-"

"Early to bed, early to rise!"

What Serra didn't tell Lucius was that she had woken them up at an unholy hour in the morning because she wanted to prove that she could get up earlier than anyone else if she put her mind to it. Serra smiled as she roused the groaning children. Step one of her plan had gone without a hitch.

* * *

Serra's strange transformation baffled Lucius. Just last night she was pale and shivering in bed, but now it seemed he couldn't look anywhere without seeing her hard at work at something or another.

Serra was furiously scrubbing the walls when Lucius approached to offer his help. A child suddenly cried out in pain upon stubbing his toe. Lucius turned to help him but Serra was already there, bandaging his foot and warning against future mishaps. The tea kettle started to whistle at that moment, but before Lucius could reach the stove Serra was already throwing the kettle off of the fire. Lucius could not deny that he found this very strange, nor could he say that he was not worried.

After sweeping the floors and scrubbing the windows, Serra shot through the door before Lucius had the time to admire his reflection in the now-shining windows. Following as quickly as he could, Lucius told the children to be good over his shoulder and ran after Serra. By the time he caught up, breathless and panting, Serra had already opened the gate to the chicken coop.

"Si... Sister Serra!" he said. Lucius held a hand to his heaving chest. "Are you.. are you not feeling well? Yesterday, you... you were sick in bed..."

For the next few minutes, the sound of distressed chickens drowned out Lucius. Serra was manoeuvring her way around them much better than before, but she was not above punting chickens to the side when they proved too troublesome.

"Ooooh, you stupid chickens!" shouted Serra as she used her feet to part a crowd of hysterical, flapping chickens. "Move! I haven't any time to waste!"

Lucius wanted to tell her that she wasn't wasting time at all; on the contrary, he wanted her to slow down. However, he was not used to raising his voice over the sound of squabbling chickens not to mention he was still tired. At any rate, Serra was far too preoccupied to have heard him anyway. She reached the nests and started extracting the eggs, though she wasn't very gentle if the frenzied hens were any indication.

"W-wait, Sister Serra! Please don't startle the-_Sister Serra_!"

But unfortunately, Serra had already gathered all the eggs by the time Lucius reached the chicken coop's gates. With a full basket slung casually over one arm, feathers flying in her wake, and looking for all the world like she had just gone power-shopping, Serra said, "Have you ever thought about letting the kids try some meat? There's this really plump chicken that tore a big hole in my dress."

"_Sister Serra_-"

But she didn't stay for long. "Oops! Can't talk; supper doesn't cook itself!"

Serra ran off before Lucius could tell her that they hadn't even had lunch yet.

* * *

While her enthusiasm was catching with the children who seemed more eager to do chores, Lucius couldn't help but worry. It wasn't because the impressionable children adopted Serra's haphazard ways (though it did cause him a good deal of concern), but it was Serra herself. Lucius worried for her well-being and - dare he say it - her sanity. That day, she cooked and cleaned like a woman determined to do a decade's worth of chores within the space of one night.

As she mopped the floor furiously, splashing dirty water over the areas she had already cleaned, Lucius approached her. "Sister Serra," he said gently. "I think this is... too much."

Serra dipped the mop in a bucket and then swabbed the floor, leaving grey puddles in her wake. "Of course it isn't, silly!" she said.

The monk took a deep breath and tried again. "Sister Serra... what I'm trying to say is-"

Serra started mopping around his feet. "Excuse me, I need to mop where you're standing, Lucius."

After muttering an apology and moving aside, Lucius said, "-What I'm trying to say is-"

"Be a dear and pass me that rag."

"This one?"

"Thanks."

"As I was saying-"

"Kind of stuffy in here. Could you open the-"

"Sister Serra!" shouted Lucius. He stared at Serra, watching her stare back. Serra was wide-eyed at his outburst though Lucius felt just as surprised. "I-I, I need to tell you something. It's important that you listen. Please... stop."

To Lucius's confusion and bewilderment, Serra's eyes filled with terror and she shrieked. To the credit of her small frame, the mop handle violently snapped in her hands. "_No!_" she screamed as her face went white. "Oh, you don't mean it! Tell me that you don't mean it, Lucius!"

"But... but what do _you_ mean?" replied a bewildered Lucius who eyed the broken mop handle.

By now, Serra was on her knees, already upset to the point where fat drops of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Y-you... you _hate_ me! Oh, you must _hate_ me and _loathe_ me and _detest_ me!"

"Wh..._what_? Sister Serra-"

Serra suddenly stood up so fast it was all Lucius could do to avoid a head butt to the chin. "I'll do it," said Serra through her sniffles. "I'll... I'll clean the house, I'll cook the food... I'll treat the children so well they'll never, _ever_, want for anything! So please, wait just a little before you decide to hate me! I-I don't mind if you still hate me afterwards, just _please..._ give me a chance!"

And with that, she tearfully ran off to some other errand. Lucius felt none the wiser. Serra, it seemed, needed to be saved from herself.

* * *

For a good deal of the day, Serra avoided Lucius. Whereas she normally served lunch to everyone, she had Lucius serve himself. Whenever he walked in on her mopping the floors (and sometimes the walls since this was how Serra's world worked), she would immediately announce that she had something to do outside. The cleric once proclaimed she had cows to milk but Lucius never recalled having any bovine pets.

The children, he found, were also acting strangely. They huddled in small groups and glanced over in his direction with the occasional giggle. Lucius noticed that Serra's strange new habit of avoiding him made the children giggle and smile in the oddest manner. Whenever they caught a glimpse of Serra running away from him, the children broke out into hysterical fits. There was a joke of some sort and Lucius knew it was on him.

"Children," said Lucius as he crouched to their level, "might I know why you're all laughing?"

Fresh waves of laughter and giggles broke out. One little girl replied, "Well, Father Lucius, we're all laughing because it's funny!"

Lucius smiled at her. "Oh? And what, pray tell, is this funny thing?"

"You and Sister Serra, of course!"

"Is... is that so," said Lucius. A pensive look replaced his smile. He rested his chin in his hand. "I do wish she wouldn't avoid me like this."

The children started laughing again. A little boy said, "Oh, you shouldn't be so worried, Father Lucius. I know it will all work out!"

"Do you now?"

All of the children eagerly nodded. Lucius couldn't help but smile once more. "Thank you, children," said Lucius. "I hope it works out as you say it will."

* * *

Strangely enough, Serra did not feel as tired as she should have. The walls were smooth and dirt free, the pots and pans were spic and span, the chicken coop was stocked with enough feed for three winters and the floor was positively glowing. This, she knew, was definitely an accomplishment seeing how the orphanage had a dirt floor.

But despite all the work she did, she still had the energy for more. Deep down, Serra knew that Lucius wasn't easy to impress. The monk was a man of high standards who would never settle for a less-than-spectacular woman. If he ever accepted a woman of lesser calibre, Serra would know that he deserved better even if he did not realize it. She wanted to be that woman, that spectacular woman who could neatly roll every unkempt pair of socks (missing or otherwise) on the continent without breaking a sweat. Serra knew she was the diamond in the rough that needed just a little polish to really shine. Perhaps that was why she scrubbed until she lost the feeling in her arms and sweated by the bucket load.

Whenever she ran into Lucius, Serra ran away before he could see her fumbling around with the mop. No woman with two left hands would impress him. Serra knew she would leave a stronger impression on him if she did her chores in secret until she had enough skill to scrub out stains with a single glance. When that happened, there was no way Lucius wouldn't let her stay. In her own words, Serra would say that her plan was coming along just dandy.

Time just flew by while she was cooking and cleaning. The soreness in her arms was almost pleasant as she continued to scrub the orphanage's outdoor walls. Halfway through scrubbing the front door, Serra felt something tugging at her dress. She would've ignored it if there hadn't been a child's voice asking, "Beautiful Serra, may we please help you?"

Serra would've probably ignored that too if it weren't for the child's choice of adjectives. She looked down at them and saw several children standing around her. "Oooh, did Lucius teach you all to say this?" said Serra with a wink. The child who spoke earlier shook his head.

"No, beautiful Serra. You taught us."

The smile dropped off her face. "Oh. I did, didn't I."

Serra was never one to be pessimistic so she recovered quickly from her disappointment. She even found herself quite happy scrubbing the walls with the children by her side. By now, Serra was far past the first impression she had of them (though it wasn't hard seeing how she had looked upon them as she looked upon the dirt between Bartre's toes). In her own way, she loved them all.

With the help of the orphans, Serra had the orphanage walls clean and presentable. She had them put away the clothes and buckets while she fetched herself a ladder.

"Will there be anything else, Sister Serra?"

"Just this one thing, but don't worry your little heads. I'll do it myself!"

And with that, Serra cast her eyes skyward. She had one last task to do and she was determined to do it.

* * *

"_Father Lucius! Father Lucius_!"

Lucius looked up from his book to see a crowd of children running in through the door while shouting his name. They were wide-eyed and frantic, each trying to speak over the other. Lucius caught only bits and pieces of the clamour. Something about a ladder, Serra, and a strange word she said that none of the younger children understood (later, Lucius would have to gently remind Serra that children were impressionable and cussing was not a habit that he wanted them to pick up).

"Children, children!" said Lucius as he stood up and gestured with his hands for the children to quiet down. "What's wrong?"

Instead of telling him, the children took his hands and started pulling him in the direction of the door.

"_Come_!"

"_Hurry Father Lucius_!"

"_Faster, faster_!"

Their distress caught on and Lucius found himself standing outside the orphange with a ladder lying in pieces by his feet. "Oh," thought Lucius. "The ladder's broken. It must've frightened the children when it fell."

Thinking that the ladder would make good firewood, Lucius started to pick up the pieces when he heard Serra's voice.

"Hello Lucius!"

The monk picked up another piece as he turned to speak with Serra only to drop his armful of wood when he saw her.

"Sister Serra," said Lucius slowly. He tried to make sense of things before he spoke again. "You're on the roof."

Sure enough, Serra was sitting on the tiled roof of the orphanage, barefoot, and wearing grimy oven mitts and a pair of what Lucius recognized as his old shirt and shorts now stained with dirty. She wriggled her toes at him. When Lucius looked back at the children, he realized that they were no longer distressed, but in fact, they looked at him expectantly like he had promised them a gift.

"Have you ever seen a cleaner roof?" shouted Serra from her perch.

"Serra-"

"I can see myself in the gutters! Well, not _in_ the gutters, but they're nice and shiny now. I think I'm breaking out a little."

"That's wonderful, but-"

"Wonderful? No, no, acne on a face as beautiful as this? What a crime!"

Lucius sighed and closed his eyes. He laid his face in his hands, then tilted his head up. He opened his eyes, peeked through the cracks between his fingers and saw that Serra was still sitting on the roof and _still_ wriggling her toes at him. He closed his eyes again and sighed. As nervous as he was, he started running his hands through his hair to calm himself down.

"Serra. How are you going to get off the roof?"

"Huh?"

Another sigh, a quick prayer. "The roof, Sister Serra. How are you getting down?"

"I was going to use the ladder."

The ladder was now firewood. Lucius felt ready to tear out his own hair.

"How are you going to get down now?"

"I don't know," confessed Serra, but that didn't stop her from smiling brightly. "Isn't the roof clean? With a bit of water and elbow grease, it's such a difference!"

Lucius felt his hands clenching into fists. "_But the ladder_!"

"Hardwood burns well," said Serra in her own helpful way.

* * *

Eventually, they came up with a solution. Lucius, with the help of the children, gathered up all the crates, barrels, and sackfuls of potatoes that they had. Using them, they made a giant pile by the side of the orphanage walls that reached up high enough for Serra to jump down on. Serra marvelled at how quickly Lucius and the children gathered up the pile. Lucius even seemed to treat it as an emergency of some sort. Serra was flattered, but she couldn't let it show, so she yawned when she stepped back down onto solid ground.

"Well, that was tiring," said Serra. "I might've fallen asleep up there."

Lucius, once again occupied with picking up the pieces of the ladder, did not reply. This was not the reaction Serra had expected.

"It was really rather comfy up there," said Serra as she peeked at Lucius out of the corner of her eye. "Why, if I had a few pillows and a nice blanket, I could've stayed up there all day!"

Suddenly, Lucius turned to her. There was a look on his face that Serra could not recognize until she realized it was anger. "Then perhaps," he said, "we should've left you up there."

The monk walked briskly through the orphanage doors as Serra tried to recall the last time she had ever seen Lucius angry.

She couldn't.

.

.

.

**OOOOOOOOOO**

Serra is becoming increasingly ridiculous as the story continues. _Whoooops_. But whatever. I thought it fit her.

Anyway, please review as you see fit :)

And hopefully, I will put out Chapter 4 soon!


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